The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1887-12-04
CHAPTER VI.
THE house AT MURRAYPrELp.

How John passed the evening, in what windy
confusion of mind in what squalls OF anger
streets and nIuneing into public houses, it Would
profit little TO relate. His misery, If 1T were
not progressive, yet tended in no way to dimin-
ISL; for in proportion as grief and indignation
abated fear began to take their place. At first,
his fathers menacing words lay by in some safe
drawer of memory, biding their hour. At first,
John was all thwarted affection and bhghted
hope; next, bludgeoned vanity raised It's head
again. with twenty mortal gashes; and the faith
er was disowned even as he had disowned the
What was this regular course OF life, that
John should have admired it? Z What were these
clock work virtues, from which love was ABSENT
Kindness was the test, kindness the aim and
soul; and judged by such standard. the dis
carded prodigal-now rapidly drowning his sor-
rows and his reason in successive drams-was
creature of loveler morality than his self
righteous father Yes. he was the better man;
he felt it, glowed with the consciousness. and
entering a public house at the corner of How
ard Place WHITTIER he had somehow wanderedl
he pledged his own virtues in a glass-perhaps
the fourth since his dismissal. OF that he
knew nothing, keeping account of what he
did or where he went: and in the general crash
ing hurry of his nerves, unconscious of the APP
proach of intoxication. Indeed, 1t is a question
whether he really growing intoxicated, or
whether at first the spirits did not even sober
him. For it was even as he drained his last
glass that his fathers ambiguous and menac1ng
words-popping from their hiding place in mem
ory-started him like a hand laid upon his
shoulder. Grimes hunted. the gallows." They
ugly words. IN the ears OF an 1nnOcenU
man. perhaps all the uglier; for if some judicial
error were in act against him, who should set a
limit to its grossness or to how far 1t might be
pushed2 Not john indeed; he was no believer
in the powers of innocence, his curst experience
pointing in quite other ways; and his fears, once
Weakened. grew with every hour and hunted him
about the city streets
1t was perhaps. nearly nine at night; he had
eaten nothing since lunch he had drunk good
deal and he was exhausted by emotion, when
the thought OF Houston came into his head. He
turned, not merely to the a friend, but
20 his house place of refuge. The danger
that threatened him was still so vague that he
knew neither what to fear nor where he might
expect it: but this much at least seemed undo
niable. that private house was safer than
public inn. Moved by these counses he turned
at once to the Caledonian station, passed
(not without alarm) into the bright lights of the
approach, redeemed his portmanteau from the
c oak-room and was whiring in cab
along the Glasgow road The change of move
Inent and position. the sight of the lamps
fwinkling to the rear, and the smell of damp
and mould and rotten straw which chung about
the vehicle wrought in him strange alterations
of lucidity and mortal giddiness.
Il have been drinking" he discovered, Il
must 50 straight to bed and sleep" And he
thansed heaven for the drowsiness that came
upon his mind in waves.
From of these spells he was awakened by
the stoppagc of the cab. and getting down found
himself in quite country road, the last lamp of
the suburbs shining some way below. and the
high walls of a garden rising before him in the
dark. The Lodge las the place was namely
stood indeed. very solitary. To the south it
adioined another house. but standing in so large
a garden to be well out of cry: on all other
sides open fields stretched upward to the woods
Of Corstophne Hill, or backward to the dels
of Raveston, or downwards towards the valley
of tt IIeith The effect of seclusion aided by
the great height of the garden walls which were
indeed conventual and, as John had tested, in
former days. defied the climbing schoOlboy
The lamp OF the cab threw "a CLEAN upon the
door and the not brilliant handle of the bell.
shall ring for YET said the cabman, who
had descended from his perch and was slapping
his chest, for the night was bitter.
Il wish YOU would said John, putting his
hand to his brow in of his accesses of giddi-
ness
The man pulled at the handle, and the clank-
ing Of the bell replied from further in the gar
den twice and thrice he did it. with sufficient
intervals; in the great, frosty silence of the
night the sounds fell sharp and small
Does he expect ye2" asked the driver, with
that manner of familiar interest that well be-
came his port wine face and when John had
told him no. We'll, then" said the cabman. if
yen TAX my advice of it, We'll just gang back.
And that's disintercsted mind ye, for my stables
are in the Glesgie road"
THE servants must hear" said John.
''Houti" said the driver. He keeps no serv-
ants here. man. They're a. in the town house;
I drive him often; it's just kind of hermitage,
this"
Give me the bell said john and he plucked
at it like man desperate
The clamor had not yet subsidized before they
heard steps upon the gravel and voice of sin
guar nervous CTlcu 10 lIeIn through
the door: who are you, and what do you
wantl'
Alan" said John. FITS me-its Fatty--John
you know; I'm just come home. and I've come
to stay with you"
Get the portmanteau down." said John to the
driver.
DO nothing of the kind" said Alan; and then
to John, Come in here moment; I want to
speak to you"
John entered the garden. and the door was
closed behind him. candle stood on the gravel
walk, winking little in the draughts; it threw
inconstant sparkles on the dumped holly, struck
5 the light and darkness to and fro like a veil on
Alans features, and sent his shadow lowering
behind him. All beyond was inscrutable; and
Johns dizzy brain rocked with his shadow
Yet even so. it struck him that Alan was pale
and his voice when he spoke. unnatural
.'What brings you here to-nightl' he began.
81 don't want, God knows, to seem unfrendly;
but cannot take you in, Nicholson; cannot do
it."
Alan" said John. you've just got to, You
don't know the mess I'm in; the governors
turned me out, and daren't show face in an
inn, because they're down me for murder or
something"
For WHAT" cried Alan, starting.
Murder believe" says John.
tod al h tel,